They'll know those same stars
by SameStars
Summary: New Year's Eve doesn't just change the year - it changes everything. Kyle/Tim from Kyle's POV.


"_Look at the stars. Same stars as last week. Last year. When we were kids. When we weren't even born. In a hundred years, no one will ever know who we were... They'll know those same stars."_

This year, this messed up year turned upside down and inside out didn't end with a bang. Or perhaps it did, come to think about it in retrospective. Perhaps the best way to describe this gruesome year was an explosion slowed down so much you could clearly see each part of your life being shattered and thorn into pieces the way you've seen televisions being blown up in slow-mo. But right now, mere minutes away from a new year, we experienced the almost intimidating peace that follows a catastrophe.

My mind was fighting its way through the thick haze of alcohol and pills, giving me back some of the focus I desperately wanted to loose. The rest of my body proved to need more time to regain control, as I fell down from my bed without remembering ever moving. I giggled absentminded while trying to make sense of my body parts. The days when an E would make me fly until morning was over, too many pills had been popped on a daily basis. But looking over at Tim it was obvious it wasn't the case for him. A surge of warmth and emotions shot through me when I watched him play with the rubber snake hanging from my ceiling, insanely high and lost in another world. I stood up wobbly, glancing out of the window, into the night.

The snow had kept falling and almost completely disguised the mark in the front yard where Tim had been laying earlier. It reminded me of the times when we used to drop whatever was in our hands at the time of the first snow and run out as fast as our legs would carry us. We'd make snow angels until our lips were blue and our clothes so wet they were heavy to be wearing. I could see people on the street, fireworks in the sky. I imagined that this moment, though I wasn't sure if the time agreed with me, was the start of the new year. I imagined people kissing, dancing and shouting, feeling that this is it; this is the year, with blood, adrenaline and alcohol pumping through their bodies. One step backwards to keep my balance, and I collided with Tim. I found myself just inches away from his face, wanting so desperately to close that distance between us. His expressions were soft and relaxed, the way they used to be but never were anymore. And all the hesitation, the doubt and the fear was gone in that moment. This was it, the start of something new or the end of something. My hand on his neck, silently asking for permission. What followed was bliss, it was pure ecstasy even with the drug wearing off. These two types of ecstasy made me aware of every little part of my body in ways I'd never experienced, and even more so I was aware of every little part of Tim's body. As we marked each others bodies, claiming territory, I was in the back of my head aware that we also left marks on our friendship. But I didn't care, I needed this, wanted this more than I've ever wanted something in my whole life. Beside this every other experience with girls that I couldn't even name, could barely remember, was fading in comparison. I wanted to stay in this moment, in this bed, my burning skin against his burning skin, forever.

I could see the change in his expressions afterwards, when he lied there catching his breath. He was so beautiful, and if I only would have dared I would have reached out to stroke his hair out of his eyes, I would've placed small kisses over the marks that I had left on his skin. But when I saw his expression, I cursed myself for letting my feelings take over. I had so many reasons for leaving my feelings out of my actions, but he had made me forgot those, and for that I partially hated him. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him clumsily putting some of his clothes back on. He then rolled over, his back to me. I let my nails dig deep into the palms of my hand, because that's what the distance he had created between us felt like. Nails into the palm of my hand – that was love.

I could hear Tim drifting off to sleep, but I couldn't. I thought about that time in the red spinner when I almost told him the truth. How it would be different now if I had. Different how? Different as in not having his marks on my neck and my collarbone? Or different as in when we'd wake up on New Year's Day, we would be able to look each other in the eye? It was just days after Matt had put an end to his, and in a way also his family's, life. The last thing Tim had wanted to talk about that day was Matt, so we didn't. We didn't talk much at all, we mostly smoked in silence, cigarette after cigarette until my voice got raspy and I started to feel ill. I summoned all the courage I had, and broke the silence.

"If I ask you something… promise you won't think I'm like…" I trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

"Yeah, of course."

This was it. This was it, and I couldn't do it. I took the easy way out.

"Forget about it." I mumbled.

I knocked the ash off my cigarette, cursing myself for my cowardice. And for feeling what I felt in the first place.

"No!" he said fiercely, making a gesture that told me to go on. I looked away.

"I'ma blow up an M80 at the bathroom in school tomorrow." I said, smirking slightly. I hadn't planned that, but I did have a couple of M80's in my room, and blowing something up felt like a good idea at the time. If Tim doubted that was what I was going to tell him from in the first place, he didn't show it.

"What, really?"

I snorted, unsure if I was mostly relieved or mostly disappointed he didn't see through my words. For being such a cynical person, he really was quite gullible. I put the cigarette in my between my lips, jumped out of the spinner and gave it a good push. The conversation was over, and I still hadn't told him, and I never would.

When I heard Tim wake up with a gasp, I didn't turn around. I didn't need to; I could easily guess what was going through his mind now. I felt him sit up in bed, and pain shot through me when I realised that if I pretended to sleep, he would walk away from me, leave me without a word. In an act of self-preservation I choose to speak first.

"I would've left first, but I live here." In a way it was true, had we been somewhere else I would've walked out. Anything to spare me from the look of disgust that I suspected was on his face.

"I don't know what just happened." He said slowly, his voice low. When all is lost, you find that the things you never had courage to say before come so easy. So I spoke.

"I seem to remember putting my.."

He cut me short.

"_Don't_… say that, Kyle." His voice was strained. His denial hurt me even more than I'd imagined it would.

"What man, what do you want me to say?" I shot at him.

"It was the ecstasy!"

"The ecstasy." I repeated. I'd rather see him kicking and screaming, blaming me, than saying that last night wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for the E. "The ecstasy…" That fucker. I wanted to build up my walls again; it seemed a mystery now how I could be so stupid to knock them down, even for him. Self protection made me speak up again.

"Listen Tim, I'm… I'm not. Honestly, I'm not, man." Attack as a defence. "You might be. It makes sense." I wanted a reaction, just anything, but received nothing. "But I'm not."

When he walked out of my room, he walked out of my life. No more cold nights in the spinner, with the stars watching over us. These days I had to smoke my cigarettes alone, and the stars never shone as bright as I remembered them. That night, when our limbs had been entangled and our breaths heavy, I had wanted to give up the pills altogether. Why numb yourself, when you could have this bliss? That was then, now my life was centred around finding more pills, more ways to reduce the pain. Or inflict it. Alone in the spinner, high as a kite under the stars, but never flying high like I used to.


End file.
